One
by Anne Bensler
Summary: Just a one-shot without any plot. Please review. Heed the rating.
1. Chapter 1

**So I was feeling sexy and poetic today and I wrote this. That's all.**

...

I'm breathing heavily and my mind is spinning. It's a good thing I'm lying down because I don't know what's up or down right now. Just an hour ago, I was yawning at my desk, trying unsuccessfully to rub the kinks out of my neck. And now I'm here. In the dark. The only light in the room is coming in through the window and it's just enough to give me a perfect view of his muscular form. It's really him and he's really here. It's not a dream this time, not one of my fantasies spinning out of control.

His hands are on my skin. All over me. He's reading my body like a book written in braille and I know what he's reading.

I want you.

I need you.

I'm yours.

I can't say the words and I don't have to. He already knows. I think he's always known.

I don't know why he decided to come up today. It was a day like any other. The only thing that had been glaringly different, had been the heat in his eyes. It hadn't been subdued this time. Not just simmering beneath the surface. Not toned down so much that I could reason it away, make it into something it wasn't. I don't know what changed, but it did and now he's here.

With me.

On me.

And if I can help it at all, in me.

We don't speak.

We don't have to.

The second he walked up with me and I looked into his eyes, I knew. And he knew that I knew. So we didn't have to say anything. Not in words. We're not good with words anyway.

...

He has lifted my arms and guided my hands to the headboard of my bed. I hold on to the headboard, knowing that he won't restrain me, but he might as well have. I'm locked into place by him, by his presence alone.

His lips are following his hands now, finding my sweet spots as if he's found them a hundred times before. Maybe he has, in his own dreams. I know I'm making sounds but I can't control them. He answers by touching me again. His hands are palming my breasts, squeezing gently and his touch is too gentle compared to the fire in his eyes. But this is him, has always been him. Fire, anger, rage, lust. And at the same time soothing, caring, tenderness, love.

I crave him. All facets of him. His fire and his soothing, his lust and his love. I love him. I can't say it but I know it. And he can read it on my body tonight. I'm surrendering and he knows. He knows how much that means. He knows the enormity of it, and so do I. And yet, I do it. Because it's him. I will only surrender to him. I _can_ only surrender to him, because we are equals. We are the same. We are whole together and broken apart.

I don't know what tomorrow will hold, but tonight, I want to be whole. So does he.

...

His fingers are inside me and his mouth is on me. I trap his head between my legs, I just can't help it. I'm not letting go until he lets me go. Until he lets me come. I always knew he'd be like this, focusing on me first, and I'm not complaining. I'm too stunned to say anything anyway. He's going down on me like a professional and he's making sounds like he's eating the most delicious meal he's ever had. His free hand is rubbing the outside of my thigh and his fingers are moving slowly inside me while his tongue and teeth make my clit swell until I think it's going to explode.

When my orgasm hits me, I think it does. I've never had an orgasm like this before in my life and it feels like my entire body is lifting off the bed and the only thing keeping me from flying away is my iron grip on the headboard and his hand around my thigh. My body shudders and I open my legs wider, pushing myself into his face, hoping this feeling will never end. He can come and live there, right there where he's laying right now, his mouth on my body and his hands on my thighs. I never want him to leave.

When I catch my breath, he moves. Why did he have to move? I suddenly feel cold and want to close my legs, but he doesn't let me. He pushes them apart again and then he is on top of me. His body is covering mine completely and he is pure muscle and heat and lust. He's hard a a rock against me but I'm still reeling. I'm still too sensitive. Or so I thought. Because when he pushes into me, my body takes him in like it has been waiting a lifetime for him. Maybe I was too sensitive a few seconds ago, but the way he fills me up inside right now, is a basic need. It's like eating and drinking and a roof over my head. Without it, I will not survive.

He is moving and I'm paralyzed, but in a good way. My body is moving but I'm not moving it. It now has a mind of its own and it is following him. His body. On me. All over me. In me.

Oh my god, he is in me.

My hands hold on to the headboard. They are the only parts of my body I can still control. Or can I? I'm not sure I'd be able to move my arms or hands if I tried. But I'm not trying.

I throw my head back and close my eyes. Our bodies are moving as one. We _are_ one. His lips are on my neck and his tongue is warm. His chest is hard against my nipples and his hands cup my shoulders. I want to touch him but my body doesn't listen to me anymore. I try to say something, but my breath hitches. Before I can try again, his mouth is on mine. He kisses me and I can't breathe. Our tongues find each other and we tell each other our deepest secrets without making a sound.

I manage to lock my legs around him, digging my heels into his thighs. My god, the man is pure muscle everywhere. But his kisses are so gentle. Passionate but gentle. Dare I think it, loving. While his solid body is pounding into mine, pure want personified, his mouth is telling me what he is feeling.

He wants me.

He needs me.

He's mine.

I know he can't be mine because we work together and he's still married officially, but I choose not to think about that. I just listen to what his kisses tell me, and I answer him the same way.

My body is tensing up, meeting his thrusts with more vigor. I can't believe he's going to make me come again so fast. He tears his mouth away from mine, needing air. He looks into my eyes and it's the most intense moment between us since we stepped into my apartment. I can see so much in his eyes and I'm not closing mine to him. He is seeing me now, like no one has ever seen me before. And I'm not talking about my body or about having sex. He is seeing me and I don't look away. He realizes it and then my vision is blurry.

I finally close my eyes and somehow I know he is doing the same. He drops his forehead to my shoulder and we climb together as one, until we can't get any higher, and then we fly. Free-falling together, whispering each other's names and those of higher powers I'm not sure I believe in, but right now, I want to believe. Because this has to be what heaven is like. I can feel him pulsating inside me and my body is shaking, flooded with a supernatural pleasure that goes beyond the satisfaction of a basic need. It is an all-encompassing experience filling the entire room and enveloping us, embracing us, like we are now embracing each other.

My arms are around his neck now and one of his hands is cupping the back of my head. He is holding me to him like I am holding him to me. We're trembling and our cheeks are wet. Our bodies are slick with sweat but these are tears on our faces. They tell us what we don't say out loud. What we won't say out loud tonight. I don't know if we'll ever say it. But we both know what they mean. We're crying because we shouldn't but we do. We've fallen and there is no way back. Our tears speak the unspeakable words.

I love you.

 **END**


	2. Sequel posted

Alright, I did it. I wrote a sequel to this little story. Title is "Two" and it is up now! Enjoy.


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